A Dandelion By Any Other Name by TabbyCat33098
rating General / wc 3,745 / notes curses / magic, geralt pov
Jaskier is throwing up flowers and refuses to tell Geralt who has afflicted him so. As Geralt grapples with Jaskier's impending death, he comes to terms with a few things himself.
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“Who’s the unlucky woman?” Geralt asks, stepping into the firelight.
Jaskier starts, dandelions spilling from his hands. He hastily brushes them away. “Gods, Geralt, must you always sneak up on me? This is why you have an image problem, you know. Don’t get me wrong, the whole tall, dark, and murderous vibe is fantastic -- really brings out the color of your eyes -- but the skulking tips you firmly into the realm of, well, somewhat unhinged.”
Geralt only glares at Jaskier, waiting for him to tire himself out, and sets about roasting the fowl.
“Anyway, killing my beloved won’t cure me,” Jaskier continues blithely, “so don’t even think about it. Not all problems can be solved by whacking away at them with those oversized butter knives you carry around.” He settles cross-legged next to the fire with his lute balanced across his knees and strums a few chords.